“A pear?”
To Americans, pears were a familiar fruit, but strictly speaking, that referred to Western pear varieties like Bartlett, Bosc, and Anjou. They were elongated in shape, soft in texture, and melted like butter, so people generally thought of them as fruit you let ripen and eat soft.
On the other hand, round, crisp pears with an apple-like bite were called Asian pears, and since the 1980s, some farms in California, Oregon, and Washington had been growing them and distributing them mainly to Asian markets or upscale markets.
Among the Asian pears being sold, there were even some Singo pears, but the volume wasn’t large and they weren’t mainstream, so they were mostly consumed by Asian middle-class families and food lovers.
“What do you think? Is it not good?”
“No, no, it’s not that it’s bad. From what I’ve heard, Asian pears sell for a pretty high price.”
Asian pears were sold in Asian markets and upscale markets at fairly high prices—enough that even Frederick knew about them.
“Do you know how much they go for?”
“I saw them before at, what was it, 2.7 dollars per pound? 2.8 dollars? Around there, anyway. Then you could probably get 1.5 dollars wholesale.”
If they could get 1.5 dollars per pound wholesale, that meant roughly 3 dollars per kilogram. And there was a good chance the pear Uncle Frederick had seen wasn’t a Singo pear. Singo pears had higher sugar content and larger fruit than other Asian pears, so they could fetch an even higher price.
“Hmm... If we assume roughly two hundred trees per acre... since it’s seventy acres, that would be about fourteen thousand trees. Then even on the low end, the annual harvest would exceed a thousand tons... In that case, I think you could easily make three million dollars wholesale.”
At the words three million dollars from a mere seventy acres, Frederick’s and Chloe’s eyes went wide.
“That much?”
“Really? Then that’s huge!”
“It won’t be easy. First, you’d have to tear up the existing tomato fields and plant saplings. Fortunately, Singo pears have already been brought into the U.S. as saplings, so getting one- or two-year-old saplings and planting them shouldn’t be too difficult, but even so, you’d have to wait four years before expecting a proper harvest. I don’t think you can expect any sales until then.”
Chloe spoke as if that hardly mattered.
“Isn’t it much better to struggle for four or five years and get a big harvest than to grow tomatoes now and not even get fifty dollars per ton? Even if we get a good price, sixty dollars a ton is just miserable.”
At his daughter’s words, Frederick nodded.
“A farmer doesn’t farm looking only one year ahead, after all. And our family isn’t struggling that badly. Besides, pears are harvested around the same time as grapes, right?”
“Yes. They’re harvested in early autumn, so they won’t overlap with cherry harvest season, which should also help stabilize farm income. They store well too, so you can keep them for quite a long time.”
“Mmm... Good. I’ll think about it.”
“Please do.”
As for the cherry variety, that could be grafted onto existing cherry trees for a quick harvest, so it was easy to decide. But changing an existing tomato farm into an orchard would not be an easy decision.
Besides, pears were different from cherries. To grow a variety they had never handled before, they would have to put in more than twice the effort they had put in until now. It wasn’t something one could decide lightly.
After talking like that and checking over the entire state of the cherry farm, we returned to Napa.
After Brian left, Frederick and Chloe returned to their home at Deer Ridge Country Club and continued the conversation over dinner.
“I’m in favor of changing it into an orchard. Even leaving everything else aside, the price is different.”
At that moment, Brandon, who had no idea what was going on, cut in.
“An orchard? Change what?”
Frederick kindly explained it to his son.
“The tomatoes in Lodi weren’t in good condition this time, so we only got forty-five dollars per ton. In effect, we farmed for a year and made no profit—only losses. So I was thinking things over, and Brian recommended Asian pears. He said they’re called Singo pears and are quite famous in Korea...”
“Brian again?”
At the mention of Brian, Brandon immediately scowled. Seeing that, Chloe criticized her older brother.
“Why do you hate it so much whenever Brian’s name comes up? He knows far more about farming than you do. You know how the cherry harvest turned out this time, don’t you?”
Brandon was doing the work only because his father made him, and deep down he had complaints. When Brian was around, Brandon would often openly vent those complaints, but after personally seeing the results of the cherry farming, those complaints had lessened lately.
Even in his own eyes, the cherries were better on average, their sugar content had risen, and more importantly, they had received a higher price. He had nothing to say against it.
“Tch...”
Still, as if he didn’t want to admit it, he turned his head away. Frederick did not scold him harshly and instead spoke calmly.
“There’s no end to learning. Learning from someone better than you isn’t something to hurt your pride. I’m learning from Brian too, aren’t I?”
“That’s what I hate most.”
It seemed the very fact that his father was learning something from an Asian man offended him.
“Tsk, tsk... With that kind of thinking, the farm won’t grow. Think about it calmly. In any case, Chloe, you might decide that easily because you’re only thinking about sales, but growing an entirely new crop takes more effort and care than you might imagine. It’s like raising another child. There’s a lot to learn and a lot to pay attention to.”
“I’ll learn.”
At that moment, Brandon’s head snapped around. He glared at her sharply. He wasn’t a complete fool, so he had clearly realized what his younger sister’s words meant.
“You’re saying you’ll do it?”
“Yes. I can learn and grow them myself.”
Saying she would grow the crop herself was no different from saying she would inherit the seventy-acre farm as well.
“Dad, you can’t!”
Brandon immediately tried to stop him. When Frederick stared at him quietly, he seemed slightly flustered before speaking.
“You can’t just give her the farm without any conditions. If you’re going to give that to Chloe, then give me the olive farm.”
“Hah, you brats... Did you leave your farms in my care or something?”
Amelia, Chloe and Brandon’s mother, who had been quietly watching, scolded them.
“Your father’s right. Don’t act as if you entrusted them to him.”
“No... That’s not what I mean. Dad was acting like he was going to give Chloe the farm...”
“When did he do that? From what I saw, Chloe said she’d try changing the tomato farm into an orchard and growing it.”
“That’s the same thing!”
“How is that the same thing? Then you can say you’ll try doing it.”
At Amelia’s logical response, Brandon shut his mouth.
“See? When it’s actually you doing it, you can’t.”
“I’m already doing all the work on the walnut farm...”
“Chloe is juggling school and farming too, you know?”
“......”
In the end, as Brandon irritably moved his fork around, Chloe gave a faint snort of laughter and turned back toward her father.
“I can do it.”
“...It’ll be hard.”
“I think it’ll be fun.”
Since his daughter was being this proactive, Frederick found himself thinking it over again.
“It’ll cost an enormous amount of money.”
“I’m confident. If you want, you can make it a loan to me. Of course, in that case, that farm will really become mine.”
At that, Frederick actually looked interested.
“Really? As in, I lend you the money?”
“Yes. Once there’s profit, I’ll repay you. How about it?”
Frederick looked at Brandon.
“What do you think? With this, you should be satisfied too, right?”
“Well, if that’s the case. Tell her to give it her best shot.”
Since his son’s permission(?) had been granted, Frederick now began presenting the numbers to his daughter in earnest.
“Think carefully. Assuming you plant fourteen thousand pear trees on seventy acres of land, the cost of the trees alone will be considerable. On top of that, you’ll have to change the soil environment, reinforce drainage, and bring in a drip irrigation system like the cherry farm. The initial funding alone could reach one million dollars.”
“Well... I suppose so?”
“And how much will it cost to raise the orchard over four years? Even at minimum, it’ll probably take one and a half million dollars.”
At the larger-than-expected amount, the corners of Chloe’s eyes trembled slightly. It was an amount difficult for a student to bear. No, even an ordinary adult would hardly dare attempt it if told they had to take on 2.5 million dollars in debt over five years. Other than for an apartment, who could easily decide to take out a loan amounting to 2.5 billion won?
“I’ll do it.”
“Don’t think of it as Dad lending you the money. You’ll be taking out a bank loan under your own name.”
“What?”
“I’ll give you your inheritance in advance. How about it? I’ll settle the taxes and transfer it to you as an inheritance, but any funds needed after that will be through loans you take out yourself. Since I’m your parent, I can cover part of the initial operating funds. What do you think? Will you still do it?”
Frederick naturally thought his daughter would say that was too harsh. Amelia also frowned as she spoke.
“Honey, that’s too much for your daughter. She’s only twenty.”
“I know. But she said she wants to do it herself. Farming isn’t a game. If she’s going into it with the mindset of just trying it and giving up if it doesn’t work...”
“I’ll do it.”
Before Frederick could even finish, Chloe stepped forward.
“You’ll do it? Really?”
“Yes.”
“This is a bank loan. You’ll have to bear it entirely yourself.”
“I know. Jacob did it, Armando did it, and Brian did too. Everyone is taking on their own burden and betting their lives on farming. There’s no reason I can’t do the same.”
Frederick looked at his daughter with surprise as she straightened her shoulders and declared it proudly.
---
After I came back with label approval from the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, or TTB, an agency under the U.S. Department of the Treasury, Dad asked me.
“Sylphide? What does that mean?”
“It’s taken from the title of a French ballet. It means a light, mysterious fairy. It expresses the delicate and elegant texture of Pinot Noir.”
“Oh—nice. Then are you bottling it starting tomorrow?”
“Yes. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have to stay at Laird Family Estate for a full week. In the meantime, Dad, Mom, please keep a good eye on the farm.”
“When are they harvesting from the Harper farm in Russian River Valley?”
“They’ll harvest around the day after tomorrow. That will go straight to Laird Winery too, so I’ll check its condition there right away.”
“All right. Don’t worry about the farm. We’ll be harvesting soon too. I heard there was a wildfire in Pope Valley yesterday. I hope this year passes quietly.”
“Don’t even get me started. There was a fire in Las Lomas this morning, and Armando was really on edge in case it came down as far as Alexander Valley.”
“Whew, Armando must be worried too. Is he doing well?”
“Yes. They’ve started harvesting Merlot and will start harvesting Cabernet soon. He’s learned a lot from me, so the harvest won’t be a problem. The vinegar is the problem.”
“That’s true.”
Dad nodded, then asked with a rather serious face.
“You know that fellow Elowen?”
“Ah, the Silver Oak vineyard owner?”
“Yes. His daughter goes to the same school as you.”
“Yes. Why?”
“From what I hear, he’s going around bragging like crazy because his wine score was pretty high this time. He hung a banner at the winery entrance saying he got eighty-eight points from Wine Spectator.”
“Oh, really? I guess it came out well.”
“Exactly. He’s been making a huge fuss about it, and he’s even throwing a party and calling all the workers.”
For Silver Oak, which had struggled quite a bit these past few years, they had finally produced a decent piece of work this year, so this was a chance to make up for all that hardship.
“So word even reached your ears, Dad.”
“Don’t even ask. While you were gone, he even sent someone over to invite us to the party.”
“Haha, really? I didn’t think he’d invite us.”
“That’s how much he wants to show off.”
Just then, a sharp cry rang out from far away.
“Oh my goodness, hey! Honey!”
Startled, I sprang up to run over, but Mom roughly opened the door from outside and came in, waving something in her hand. When I looked to see what it was, it was a magazine.
“Honey! Our wine was in the magazine again!”
Only then did I realize it wasn’t something bad and sat back down, clutching my chest in relief, while Dad asked excitedly.
“Huh? Where?”
“You know that magazine we were in before. They posted another review of Aeschlon this time. But don’t be surprised. The score is... ninety points!”
Mom opened the magazine and showed the relevant review section to me and Dad.
“What? Ninety points? Hahaha! Silver Oak Winery can move aside! We’re the ones who should be throwing a party! Hahaha!”
Dad burst into laughter. I fixed my gaze on the magazine.
[Despite being only its first vintage, “Aeschlon” displays a level of completion fully comparable to Napa Valley’s mid-sized wineries. It will be worth watching how much further this winery grows in the future.]
Christopher White’s wine review. I still remembered that angry face from back then, but surprisingly, the score and the review were full of praise.
“This guy’s got quite the professional spirit.”
I looked at the photo of Aeschlon printed in the review and smiled in satisfaction.